


without having to confess

by ObscureReference



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He spends a moment taking in the sight, how Holster's hair flops a little more into his eyes than normal because he needs a haircut, how blue his eyes are when contrasted to the dullness of the attic. He's not looking at Ransom. There's probably a metaphor in there somewhere, but Ransom is majoring in Biology, not English.</p><p>Edit: Now with a companion piece from Holster's POV titled "All casual" by Nutella_enthusiast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	without having to confess

**Author's Note:**

> The working title for this was "ransom would probably be the kind of guy to cry during sex."
> 
> Probably if he was having sex with his bff he was in love with since forever, probably.
> 
> I have an assessment due to day and I did this instead. Also, I cranked this out pretty fast, so tell me if you see any mistakes I can fix. Title from:
> 
> "I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything."  
> -Richard Siken, The Torn-Up Road
> 
> Edit: Nutella_enthusiast wrote a companion piece to this! It's from Holster's POV and can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5827945

The attic doesn't get proper heating, but it's not like _any_ room in the Haus gets proper heating, so Ransom is used to cuddling up with Holster underneath a blanket. For extra buddy heat, of course. The wood is cold and gritty under his legs when as Ransom leans against the side of Holster's bed, but it's not possible for both of them to fit on one of the single beds comfortably and watch Netflix at the same time, so Ransom puts up with it.

The blanket is pulled up to both of their chins and Ransom's elbow is pressed against Holster's arm underneath. It's not a huge blanket, and they're not exactly small dudes. When one of them shifts, the other feels it, so when Holster reaches up the scratch the side of his face, Ransom looks over. He spends a moment taking in the sight, how Holster's hair flops a little more into his eyes than normal because he needs a haircut, how blue his eyes are when contrasted to the dullness of the attic. He's not looking at Ransom. There's probably a metaphor in there somewhere, but Ransom is majoring in Biology, not English.

"Can I fuck you?"

The words tumble out of his mouth like marbles, and Ransom wants to pick them all up from the floor and stuff them back in, but they've scattered and it's too late. Holster looks at him. Ransom stops breathing.

"Why?" Holster asks, instead of _we're watching 30 Rock right now_ or _what the hell_ or _bro, that's gay, even for us_. His glasses are slipping down his nose. Ransom swallows.

_Why? Because I haven't slept with anyone in a month. Because I haven't wanted anyone else since way before then, and it doesn't feel right to go out when you're right here. You aren't seeing anybody either. Don't chirp me for this, but you're a pretty handsome guy. You're hair is getting long and I know you cut it yourself, but I want to run my hands through it at least once before you do. You take care of me when I'm stressed out, I've never felt like this with anybody, we always joke about having a connection but are you feeling the same one?  I'm hoping you want this even though I wish I hadn't asked you, I've been in love with you since forever, can I kiss you, just once, please, I can say no homo if you want._

He shrugs.

Holster, for some reason, looks like he's almost considering it. Eventually, he shrugs too.

"Okay," Holster says.

"Wait," Ransom replies. "Really?" He thinks he might be having another stress dream, except weirder.

Holster takes off his glasses and sets them off to the side. His shrug is naturally careless. "Sure."

Ransom's not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, so he stops asking questions and leans over. He's sure the jig is up when he kisses Holster, too tender to be anything but real, but instead of calling him out on it, Holster cups his face with one of his large hands and kisses back, just as gently.

Holster's thumb runs back and forth on Ransom's cheekbone as Ransom closes his eyes. He can barely bring himself to do it, wants to take it all in so much it hurts, but it's weird to stare and Holster probably wouldn't ignore Ransom keeping his eyes open the whole time, no matter how badly he wants to. So he shuts his eyes instead and focuses on how warm Holster is and how chilly everything else is in comparison. One of them kicks the blanket away.

Once, Holster had brought some girl back to the room while Ransom had been sleeping. He woke up when they crept across the creaking floorboards of the attic and after the second or third moan, Ransom realized it wasn't just Holster stumbling in after drinking without him. They had only gotten louder from there, and Ransom laid frozen in his bunk, cock painfully hard and straining against his boxers, forced to listen to Holster's breathy moans from below and think about how _this_ was what Holster sounded like when he was having sex.

Time seemed to slow down then. He was incredibly aware of every shift and squeak below him, every gasp from the girl who Holster tried to silence with _shh_ and soft mutters that Ransom couldn't quite make out, for better or for worse. It went on forever, like some kind of hostage porno he was forced to listen to while growing increasingly hard with every sound.

Eventually Ransom couldn't take the strain anymore, and he palmed himself through his underwear. Holster let out a long and drawn-out moan at the same time, the kind of moan that was accompanied by an O-face, _Holster's_ O-face, which Ransom couldn't help but picture. He creamed himself right then like some virgin thirteen year old who just discovered what a boner was. He was as embarrassed as he was ashamed. If the girl got off as well, he couldn't hear it, too focused on the thought of _HolsterHolsterHolster_ to hear anything else.

The noise below him quieted, and Ransom was forced to lay in bed with a cooling wet spot staining the front of his boxers until he eventually drifted to sleep with the thought that the girl and Holster _probably_ didn't know he'd just gotten off to them having sex.

In the morning, the girl was gone and Holster had apologized, saying he'd been trying to get together with her for like two weeks and it was kind of a rushed thing and sorry, it was not a bro thing to bring her back when you were sleeping, did I wake you up? Ransom told him no, he'd slept through the night.

This was so much better than that.

This was Holster under him _for real_ , not just technically under him by way of buck beds. Ransom would probably get to see Holster's O-face for real, not just imagined, and damn, that thought shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

Ransom drags his hands along Holster's biceps, greedy, because he wants everything Holster was willing to give. It's probably not going to be okay once they're done because Ransom is sure that once he has a taste of this, he isn't sure he's going to be able to deal with not having Holster again, but Ransom is going to make it more than okay in the moment. And then he almost wants to laugh at himself because even if Holster wanted to stop right now, just the fact that they were kissing, the fact that at one point Holster's lips touched his lips and they moved together for one moment of his entire existence, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

It makes him kiss Holster even harder, makes him speed up and press closer until Holster's hands find his hips and suddenly Ransom is sitting in Holster's lap.

He immediately tilts down and sucks at the skin right above Holster's Adam's apple while Holster runs his hands over the curb of Ransom's ass and takes hold. Holster presses him closer and the drag of their dicks together makes them both groan. There's already an embarrassingly large bulge in his jeans this early on, but he can feel that Holster is pretty hard too, so he takes solace in that.

By the time Ransom finishes making the sickest, most impossible to hide hickey ever on Holster's throat, they're both pretty worked up. Holster's hands, splayed out on his ass, his back, drifting toward his thighs, leaving searing imprints in Ransom's skin. This is going to be over pretty soon if they don't get a move on.

For how much they work out, they're both equally huge guys, so Holster can't exactly hoist him into the bed. When Holster tugs at the back of his pants, Ransom scrambles out of his lap and they both stand up. Holster loses his pants and shirt before he lays down, and Ransom takes off just his shirt before crawling on top of him, because as much as he wants to be naked, he's not sure he can take not touching Holster for more than a second.

They slot against each other like they were made for it, Ransom thinks. Like two atoms forming an bond. But some atoms have more stable shapes than others. He hopes they're a stable shape, but with the added element of Ransom's more than platonic affection and the variable of sex, it's probably not true.

The tip of Holster's cock is peeking out from the slit in his boxers and the sight makes Ransom groan, breathless. He loses his pants. Holster loses everything.

They always have lube, of course, and a condom is never far behind. Ransom is actually happy to practice safe sex in this case, because even though he and Holster both get checked regularly, he's pretty sure he'd blow his load before they even got anywhere if he had to push in bare. So he puts the condom on and pours some lube onto his hands and tries to focus on working Holster open instead, even though every grunt and gasp Holster makes just sends another jolt to his dick.

Ransom has never done this with a guy before, but he's read up on it and maybe, yeah, fingered himself a few times, whatever. He thinks Holster might suspect as much from his nonchalance at shoving his fingers up someone's ass and the way Holster eyes him, but he finds Holster's prostate fairly quickly and then Ransom gets to admire the bruise he's created on his throat when Holster throws his head back instead of answer questions.

They get up to three fingers and Ransom is trying really, really hard not to blurt out something embarrassing, like _you're amazing_ or _I love you_. Thankfully that's when Holster bucks his hips, saying, "Come on, yeah," and that means it's time for business. Ransom pulls his fingers out and lines his cock up instead.

Even pushing the tip in knocks the wind out of him, because _this is what Holster feels like, holy shit_ , this is what it feels like to be connected in the most physical way. Even after working Holster open for however long, he's still tight around Ransom's cock, and Ransom thinks, near hysterically, _I'm literally inside Holster right now_ about twelve times before he reaches the base.

It's a slow start, and Ransom pauses to give Holster time to adjust. Holster is looking at where they're connected, and Ransom takes the opportunity to examine Holster's face instead. He takes in every inch of it, memorizing every line and crease, how pink and wet his mouth is, because he'll probably never have this again. This is all a fluke that Holster will brush off with a _well, that was fun_ and Ransom doesn't want to forget, not ever.

Just before Holster's eyes can flicker to his face and ask what's wrong, what's the hold-up, Ransom grips Holster's dick loosely with a free hand and tugs. Holster melts immediately. He bites his lip, which Ransom can't help but stare at. He shakes it off.

Ransom starts it off nice and slow, but soon enough he's punctuating every other jerk with a shallow thrust of his hips and Holster says, "More."

So he gives more.

They reach a rhythm soon enough and if Ransom's eyes start to sting, he buries his face next to Holster's shoulder and makes sure not stop touching Holster's dick when he does.

"Fucking— _shit_ —" is all the warning he gets before Holster is shuddering around him, clenched impossibly tight and hot.

" _Holtzy_ ," falls out of Ransom's mouth in return, because he can't manage to say anything else and that one word encompasses everything anyway. His own orgasm chases Holster's own, and he can't bear to pull out until almost a minute of catching his breath.

They're both still breathing pretty heavily when Ransom collapses next to Holster on the bed. It's a tight fit, and the way their sweaty bodies catch against each other makes that all the more apparent. Holster hates feeling jizz dry on his stomach, so it's no surprised when he quickly rolls out of bed and grabs a tissue box. It's a slight surprise when he tugs on his boxers.

"Hey, I'm gonna grab some leftover pizza from the fridge," Holster says, gesturing downstairs. "Want some?"

"Sure," Ransom says. "I'll be down in a second."

Holster cocks and eyebrow. "You're that winded from one round?"

"Some of us have class."

Holster shrugs, and Ransom can't peel his eyes away from the sight of his bare back disappearing down the staircase.

The moment Holster is gone, Ransom presses his face into Holster's pillow and breaths. It smells like sweat and sex and _Holster_ , and Ransom wishes he had suggested they move to the his bed instead, even though Ransom has the top bunk and having sex up there is kind of a gamble of whether or not they'll fall. At least then he'd have something more to back up the memory of this, the time they were together, even sex sheets are kind of grody and probably a little creepy.

This won't happen again, probably. Already the feeling of Holster raking his hands up Ransom's sides is fading, and Ransom bites his tongue. Holster will have his hickey for a day or two as well, and then it will fade, just like everything else.

No, Ransom doesn't think this will happen again. He's not sure how he's going to make it through that.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/
> 
> I read some of the narrative back to myself and Ransom's thoughts are so weird sometimes, but that's probably what it's like when you like someone who doesn't like you back and you think on it a lot.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [All casual](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827945) by [Nutella_enthusiast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutella_enthusiast/pseuds/Nutella_enthusiast)




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